


Pine Sol and Tobacco Smoke

by SeraphinaGreene



Series: Behind the Mask [6]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Behind the Mask, M/M, Smut, back story, honestly no idea what to tag, plot then smut, shameless smut at end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphinaGreene/pseuds/SeraphinaGreene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. "The club's coatroom was damp and dark, pine sol and tobacco smoke hanging in the air. It was dimly lit, the fake, cheap, and cracked oil lamps gave it a barely muted glow. Memories and regret were easy to find in this place. Just look in their pockets. Every one of them had a story." 5th in the Behind the Mask Series.  Flashback on how Ferb, Isabella, and Baljeet settled in the world outside Eden, then Ferb/Phineas in the coatroom. SMUTT AHOY! Enjoy, my little devils.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pine Sol and Tobacco Smoke

Pine Sol and Tobacco Smoke

The club's coatroom was damp and dark, pine sol and tobacco smoke hanging in the air. It was dimly lit, the fake, cheap, and cracked oil lamps gave it a barely muted glow. Memories and regret were easy to find in this place. Just look in their pockets. Every one of them had a story.

If you looked in the pockets of the green-haired man, however, you'd find his hands at the moment, and nothing else, for his coat hung on the wall beside the others, unused. He's working, too caught up in his job to have anything else to occupy him. For such a remedial, laid back part of the job, he hated working in the coatroom most of all. However, it was a really slow night, and as was company policy, all non-mandatory employees were to be sent home and all low-level employees were to take their roles. So yes. He was a dancer, a people pleaser, working in the coatroom.

The smoke, although intense, was admittedly not too bad, but the pine sol, used to treat the wood paneling on the walls situated on all three sides of him, the ceiling, and the floor, was horrendously overwhelming and caused his nose to burn and his eyes to water a bit if he stood in one place for too long.

The music was still roaring, of course, despite the lessening of clientele this evening, the base pumping like a second heartbeat on his skin and pounding in his ears. Tacky black sequin curtain thrown wide, the green-haired young man sat at his desk--or rather, the desk he was required to work at for his shift for the coatroom--trying to avoid the pine sol smell altogether. His face, of course, was obscured by the uniform-mandated black-sequin mask the club required, pulled snug over his eyes. His green hair, starting to grow a little long, was curling over the edges of the mask a bit, and was curling loosely at the base of his neck. He really ought to go in for a trim. Over his trademark purple skinny jeans he chose a tight green button-up and a black sequin vest. New company policy. All employees, when in view of clientele, were required to wear an additional piece of black sequin clothing to match the mask.

The green-haired young man scratched at a stray sequin escaping the vest that lay on his neck. It was times like these that he missed the early days, before all of this nonsense came about. They were always adding new rules like that.

**When I took this job, I did it out of necessity. This place, Behind the Mask, was about as shady and tacky as it could be at the exact same time, but it was exactly what I needed. They were hiring, no questions asked, and it was all I could afford to even bother to look for. Everyone else...they'd need more than that. I remember though, the early days...the early days were lonely. Until Baljeet showed up. Caught up in an arranged marriage with a second cousin he could never love nor even hope to grow close enough to hope for anything resembling a fake or happy marriage, much less being happy with himself or his own life, he left for the border, leaving for the unknown, he said. I can understand that, in some respects. We all have our burdens to carry on our backs.**

**The two of us met on accident, here, in the big wide world. I'd been had been searching for apartments. That's right...in the early days...I'd been living in and out of hotel rooms for months, barely enough money to pay the bills, working extra hours to save money...The apartment...The apartment was a way to change all that. I still had to get a roommate though. Even with all the money I'd saved, there was no way I'd be able to afford an apartment all by myself.**

**So I walked down the cobblestone streets of the busy, busy world, crowded with people going about their daily lives, and I stopped in front of the apartment complex's office. Looking up at the building, I just stood there for a moment, taking it in. The building wasn't exactly spectacular. I couldn't afford spectcacular. I couldn't even afford to pay full price. I needed a roommate to foot half the bill, after all. The brick was cracking and had crumbled off in places, but it was solid and sturdy, if not horribly attractive. The paint on the wood was peeling. It could use a fresh coat or two, for sure, but no harm or foul there. There was rust on the hinges of the doors, the windows were sturdy and solid, the glass, although not completely void of marks, was in place and completely intact. All in all, a worthy first effort. So, I reached for the handle of the front door, a little rough in texture and worn with use and covered in grime with age and grubby hands, and, without looking where I was going, opened it, and walked in, only to...run directly into the person storming--or at least attempting to storm--his way out of the building. Clearly I'd interrupted this endeavor.**

**"Oomph!" We both exclaimed, falling backwards.**

**"Watch it!" He snapped, frustrated. "I have not gotten what I wanted today, and my life is falling further and further down into the abyss of shame my forefathers and forefathers predicted would come to pass should I not succeed..."**

**That's when I looked up and caught his eye. "Baljeet!" I exclaimed, "Is that you?"**

**"Ferb?" He looked shocked, but happy to see me. "Oh my goodness, have you come to get an apartment here? They would not allow me to get one, for I do not have a roommate and cannot afford to pay for one on my own. I would not seek a roommate for there is no one I am willing to be compatible with. However, I think because we know each other previously, that you will suffice. Are you willing to be my roommate?"**

**I laughed then, happy to see my old friend. "Of course, Baljeet. I was just going in to see if I could find a roommate, myself." I murmured quietly, and the two of us entered the office, filled with old carpet smell and last months magazines. The rest, as they say, is history. The two of us bought that apartment, and moved into it that very afternoon.**

**Things settled down then. After he discovered where I worked and how much I made, he demanded I help him get a job, and so, I did just that. He was doing remedial work at first, and then, when he was ready for something bigger, upon his request, they moved him up to what the two of us do now...pleasing customers. Although shy and a bit of a prude, he's actually quite good at it. It was quiet then, for a while.**

**It wasn't long before Isabella soon followed, much to my great surprise. She was actually the one who found me.**  
**It was a rainy, blustery, and rather miserably gray day when the ebony-haired young woman knocked on our apartment door. The second I saw her, still dressed in the modest clothing of Eden, hair matted and damp from whipping in the wind, that I pulled her into my arms and into the apartment.**

**Neither of us said anything at first, and I shut the door behind us. Taking her hand, I led her to the worn, dilapidated, and rather lumpy couch, and we sat next to each other, side by side. I didn't say a word. I knew it was up to her to her start.**

**She burst into tears, and I pulled her into my arms again, let her cry into my chest, and ran my hand down her long ebony hair, rocking her slowly. When she had stopped her sobs, the tears still streaming, she lifted her head and looked me in the eyes. I knew it was I who had to speak first, then. "You kissed him, didn't you." She nodded then, her lip quivering slightly. "And he rejected you." It was startling. Shocking, even. I took over a minute of silence, trying to let it sink in. Why would Phineas reject Isabella? The whole point of leaving was to let him marry her. To give him that.**

**Recognizing the confusion on my face, she spoke in a quivering voice through her tears, "I don't know, Ferb. He didn't give a reason. He just said no." This puzzled me even more at the time, but this wasn't the time for seeking answers, and I knew that.**

**Isabella and I spent the night curled up on the couch, consoling each other over our losses, over our grief, over our pain. There was nothing that could be said, or could be done to mend our wounds, just as nothing could be done to fix the creaky floorboards, the scratches in the paint, the scuff marks in the wood. However, it was home. And as Isabella looked around through tearstained eyes at the two people who had taken her in to this rather miserable, ramshackle little place they'd turned into a decent little home, she decided with great certainty, I can say, that she too, called it home. So maybe I don't miss the early, early days.**

Ferb struggles to sit in some other position and scratches at his neck again. **Seriously,** this thing is **incredibly itchy.** He may not miss the _early, early_ days, but he does miss the days before this began, before all of this mandated, rules are rules stuff.

"Hey." A voice slips him out of his frustrating reverie. He snaps his head up in shock. The redhead is wearing the mandated black sequin mask, a orange button-up dress shirt, black slacks, and a regular, gorgeous black vest. "I was going to take you out tonight after work, but when I heard you were back here, I couldn't resist coming to see you."

"Phineas," The green-haired young man replies with a raised eyebrow, "I'm ought to be working, you know."  
The redhead only laughs, and gestures around. "Look how empty it is, Ferb." The shorter man stalks over and around the table, grabbing the hand that had been scratching an itch only moments earlier.  
Pulling him up from the chair, he guided him to the back, directly into the pine sol and tobacco smoke. "Phin, you know how I am--"

"Shh, it's okay. I know. Trust me. It won't bother you." He said as they hit the only wall not obscured by coats, and locked their lips gently.

The music, once roaring in his ears, grew dim, dimmer than his heartbeat, which echoed the base on his skin.  
The younger man pushed himself up against the wall, relishing in the pressure, the contact between himself and the green-haired man.

Breath after breath, kiss after kiss, mouth meeting mouth, lips parting gently to greet beckoning tongues in a dance desired by both.

Hot and heady, fingers skimmed everywhere, smaller arms circled a longer neck, larger hands cupped a smaller rear, legs enter-twined to join into a rhythm of their own, the music long forgotten.

Vests and shirts were shed in quick succession, neither could tell whose was which or when either had come off first. Pants soon followed with boxers, shoes and socks toed off just before.

Standing naked in the dimly, glisteningly lit room, they collided again, fiercely this time, teeth clashing a bit as mouth meet mouth a bit too quickly, nipping at lips and enter-twining of tongues, this was a dance born of those who could remember how to fight. The green-haired man pushed his redhead lover up against the wall once more, hoisting him up around his waist, and held him there, relishing in the dominance, and sucked at one of the nipples while playing with the other, contentedly listening to the younger man's moans.

"F-F-Ferb, P-P-Please, I-I--!" Phineas let out a startled moan as Ferb, who had deftly reached into the pocket of his own coat, hanging on a nearby rack, opened the bottle of lube he kept there--just in case--and began thoroughly applying it to himself and his redhead lover.

Fingers slid in, coated thoroughly, teasing and causing a smaller young man to let out a whine of protest. Taking pity, a taller young man sought to appease him, crooked his fingers, and caused him to see stars, finding the place that caused him pleasure.

Bodies connected, meeting, joining, then they began rocking, rocking with each other's heat, each other's urge to move, to continue to feel each other inside them. Closer and closer to the edge they climbed, cresting, until, "I knew you'd love this," The redhead crooned in his ear, "getting off in public. If someone were to walk in though...you know they'd just stand and watch...we'd be so fun to watch, wouldn't we..." It was just then, bodies quaking, moaning, shifting, that they both fell over the edge.

Ferb slid them both down the wall, and out of his lover, and once he had gained his breath back, he kissed his younger lover on the forehead and said, "Yes, Phin, of course I did." **Just as much as I love you.** The look in his eyes said it, and Phineas knew what it meant.

Phineas said it back, with his eyes as well. **I love you too, Ferb. More than you'll ever know.**

The club's back room was damp and dark, pine sol and cigarette smoke hanging in the air, enter-twined with the heavenly breaths of lovers caught in a naked embrace as they sought to recover from another one of their exploits.

**Okay,** Ferb thought. **Maybe working in the coatroom isn't so bad. But these rules are still ridiculous.**

**Author's Note:**

> There's a plan for a follow-up fic after, to be determined in title. Similar in structure, this will be how Phineas and Buford found themselves outside of Eden and settled in there as a flashback nestled carefully inside Buford/Baljeet smutt.


End file.
